That Can Be Arranged
by J.M. Rowe
Summary: A jealous Soul, alcohol and an arguing pair of partners normally aren't a good mix. Then again, Soul and Maka are anything but normal. One-shot, rated T for swear words, under-aged drinking, and some slight implications.


**A.N: Salutations. Thought I'd dabble in a little Soul Eater fanfiction this time. So here ya go.**

**Summary: Alcohol and arguments normally aren't a good mix, but then again, Soul and Maka are anything but normal.**

"Saturday night, and what am I doing? Sitting here by myself, sulking, while Maka's out on a date," his masculine voice filled the living room of the quiet apartment. He huffed, "so uncool."

A tall young man was sprawled lazily out on the couch, red eyes glued to the flickering television screen. His bike helmet and keys sat on the coffee table next to him as well as his cell phone. His eyes wandered from the TV to his phone for what was probably the thousandth time, only to see that he still had no messages or calls. Sighing heavily, the white haired scythe ran a hand over his face in agitation. Soul kept hoping she'd call him, telling him the date was terrible and that she needed a ride home because she couldn't stand to spend one more minute with that douche bag. He wondered if Maka would go home with the dark haired man that had knocked on their door, and scowled at the thought.

_Bastard. I oughta kick his ass, the way he looked at her like she was something to eat._

In the years that they had been partners, Soul had grown very protective of his little scythe meister. Though he had teased her when they were younger, he cared about her deeply. That devotion had only grown stronger, and now that they were nearing 20, and legal adults, things were a little different. When they were 15, he liked to call her "tiny tits" to get a rise out of her, whereas now, that was hardly the case. Though she didn't have a large chest like Patti or Tsubaki, she was a woman grown, that much was true. Before, she had been innocently cute. Now she turned heads wherever they went, which irritated the hell out of him. At some point in the last few years, Soul had admitted to himself that he was in love with Maka Albarn, his meister, partner and best friend. He loved how her face scrunched up when she was confused, how kind and sweet she was with everyone she came across, and even how much of a nerd she was. He had spent a handsome amount of money contributing books to her collection, just to see her face light up when he gave it to her. It was worth every penny.

Soul's mind wandered back a few hours, right before Maka's stupid date had come to pick her up. She was hobbling along with one heel on, frantically searching for the other as she tried to put her large hoop earrings in. Deciding to grab himself a snack, he had come out of his room only to find her looking as stunning as he'd ever seen her. She finally got herself together and turned to face him with a smile, not noticing that he had been watching her.

"What do you think, Soul? Do I look all right?"

His partner had on a simple black halter dress that showed just a little of her chest, and silver heels. Since she had forgone the pigtails years ago and grown out her bangs, her hair was in a loose fishtail braid down her right shoulder. And to top it all off, this was one of the extremely rare occasions that she was wearing makeup. It took every ounce of his self-control not to pounce on her right then.

He rid himself of that thought and gave her a small, honest smile. "You look really nice, Maka. Your date is one lucky guy." She blushed and muttered a shy thank you, looking down to fuss with her dress. Even when she looked dead sexy, she still managed to be adorable.

There was a knock at the door and she ran to answer it, grinning from ear to ear as she greeted her date. Soul automatically didn't like the guy; he could tell he was the pompous, self-absorbed, rich-boy type. When she turned to get her jacket off the table, his eyes raked over her and he looked like a predatory wolf. Soul wanted to punch him in his smug face.

_Stupid prick._

Groaning in frustration, he stood up and wandered into the tiny kitchen, yanking open one of the cabinets. He reached up onto the top shelf (where Maka couldn't see) and took out the handle of Jack he secretly kept. Blair often bought alcohol for him, though Maka had told her a million times to stop.

"Might as well get drunk," he muttered, pouring himself a drink.

An hour or two later, he faintly heard the key turning in the door from his spot at the kitchen table. He looked up to see a very irritable looking Maka enter the apartment.

"Ugh! What an ass that guy turned out to be. I have never met someone who talks about themselves so much," she kicked off her shoes and set her purse down, walking into the kitchen to join Soul.

"And when I made it clear I wasn't going home with him, he got all pissy and said I 'wasn't that hot anyway'," she scowled, muttering, "jerk." It was then that she noticed the almost-empty bottle of Jack on the table, and the way Soul was slumped in his chair.

"Soul, are- are you _drunk?_"

He met her stare for the first time, his red eyes lazy, and his voice apathetic. "Maybe."

Maka frowned, putting her hands on her hips. "Soul!What happened to cutting back?!"

He matched her frown, sitting up straight and crossing his arms. If she wanted an argument, he'd give her one. "I'm a grown man, Maka. If I want to have a few drinks, that's my business."

She scoffed, "a few drinks? You nearly polished off an entire handle!" She picked up the bottle for emphasis, setting it down angrily. "You can't keep doing this, Soul!"

He stood up abruptly and faced her, glowering down at her, his face flushed in agitation. "Like I said, Maka, if I want to drink that's my business. Now butt out and leave me alone for once!"

By the look on her face, he could tell that one had hurt her, though she tried to hide it with venomous words. "Oh, bite me, Soul! You are such an ass sometimes, you know that?"

For a moment, everything was quiet. They stood glaring at each other, chests nearly touching, and in his angry and alcohol-addled brain, Soul was blessed with an idea. Not a good one, mind you, but he was drunk and mad, so what did he care? His scowl was gone, replaced by a haughty smirk. Maka felt his hand come up to grasp her bicep. His red eyes narrowed and he lowered his head a bit closer. She could smell the whiskey on him.

"So, you want me to _bite_ you, Maka? Because that can be arranged." The meister was lost for words, shocked and embarrassed by his implications. She put a hand on his chest and shoved him back lightly, her frown returning. "You're drunk, Soul. Go to bed."

She started to walk towards her bedroom when he grabbed her wrist and turned her back around. He scowled, curling his lip in distaste. "I'll go to bed when I feel like it. Unless you'd care to join me?"

Maka gasped and yanked her wrist free. "Soul! What has gotten into you?!"

He stared back at her, his red eyes now clear despite his intoxication. "Nothing. I'm just too drunk and angry to care about hiding it anymore."

Her brow puckered in confusion. "Hiding what?"

He was quiet, hesitating as his brain started to feel clearer, but her expectant expression told him she wasn't letting this go. He sighed, ".. I- I want you, Maka. God, do I want you." His voice lowered to a whisper as he managed to get the last bit out. Her eyes went wide and she stuttered, struggling to say something.

"Jesus, you really have no idea how amazing you are. So strong, and smart. And beautiful." He took her chin in between his thumb and forefinger and made the blushing scythe meister meet his piercing gaze. "And when that douche picked you up earlier tonight, I wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of him, then pull you into my room and never let you leave." A wandering hand settled on her waist, squeezing her hip for emphasis.

This wasn't just because he was drunk. No, this was real, and Maka was beyond shocked. "S-Soul.. I don't know what-" she was cut off by his lips crushing onto her own. For a fleeting moment, she stood frozen. Soul, her partner, her best friend, was kissing her. She had ignored her feelings for him for years, not wanting to screw up their friendship and thinking he would never return them. Obviously she had been wrong.

Maka easily melted into the kiss. It was sweet, but full of pent up emotions. Not too short, but not long enough to turn into something else. They parted slowly, and her eyes fluttered open to meet his. Soul was smiling as he gently stroked her cheek. "I love you. God damn, do I love you." Tears pricked the back of Maka's eyes and she returned his smile, leaning into his touch with affection. "Oh, Soul. I never dreamed I'd actually hear you say those words. I love you, too." He pulled her into his chest with a sigh of relief, and for one beautiful moment, they stayed like that, neither of them needing to say anything.

"I know I'm drunk," he mused as he released her, the blonde raising an eyebrow as if to say _'you think?'_ Soul grinned at her sheepishly, "but I promise, tomorrow I'm taking you out on a real date." Maka's face lit up at that and Soul swore he'd do anything he could for the rest of his life just to see her smile like that. "But for right now, I think I should listen to you and go to sleep. Goodnight, Maka." He kissed her forehead and gave her hand a final squeeze before heading into his room.

Hours later, Soul woke up to his covers being lifted, and he smiled as Maka crawled into his bed. He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her into his warm embrace. Her eyes already closed, she planted a soft kiss to his shoulder, "goodnight, Soul."

**A.N: How cheesy was that? Ah well. Please review!**


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